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The way my luck is going, I’ll likely break a toe, and then where will I be?

But even though I resist the urge to do that kicking, my anger doesn’t fade. I’m just…so damned angry, as though a lifetime of frustrations is threatening to burst free at any moment. Shoved down time and again, so hard that I forgot it existed.

And now…

It’s like I can’t keep the lid on it.

Like the rage is boiling up and over and?—

My pacing is abruptly halted by a tree branch catching my hair, yanking me to a halt.

“Ow!” I growl, wrenching a hand through my hair to free it and kicking out at the offending tree’s trunk. “Ugh!” I yell, kicking at it again. “UGH!”

“I’m impressed by the power of your kicks, princess,” I hear, “but want to clue me in as to what the poor, innocent tree did to you?”

I still, red-hot embarrassment scorching through me.

Hudson’s hand settles lightly on my shoulder, carefully turning me toward him. He crouches a little, his gaze holding mine, and then he proves how wonderful he is because he doesn’t hesitate to pull me into his arms, hugging me tight.

The man gives the best hugs.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper long moments later.

“For what?” he whispers back.

“For being angry for no reason.”

He leans away from me, one big hand lifting and cupping my jaw. “You absolutely have a reason—reasons—to be angry, princess. And I’m glad you’re letting it out now.”

“It’s like I have this well of rage in me,” I whisper. “One that’s been shoved down again and again and again.” I close my eyes, exhale. “I’m alive and safe and privileged. I shouldn’t be angry, especially when so many people are working to help me.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You don’t have to justify yourself. You’ve been through hell, been taken advantage of, and you’re stuck here in a holding pattern until things shake out. Of course you’re upset. And I like that you’re angry—that tells me you’re finally starting to process all the things you’ve been through, the bad shit that’s been done to you. Because any normal person would be pissed, baby. Not just accepting.”

I release a shaky breath.

“So let that rage come, let that anger loose. Don’t keep it locked inside where it’s just going to continue to eat at you.”

“It scares me,” I admit.

“We’ll take it on together.”

No hesitation. Not in his words. Not in his eyes.

Just laid out there, same as I know, without a doubt, that he would lay down his life for me.

I love him.

The thought doesn’t bring fear to my heart—and likely, it should. But it doesn’t.

Because it’s just…a forgone conclusion.

So, I don’t pull back.

I melt against him, wrap my arms around him in turn, and sigh softly, soaking him in. “Thank you,” I murmur.

He pulls back, cups my jaw again. “No thanks needed. Not ever,” he adds when I start to protest.

“Stubborn.”